


A Bride for Brandon

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Henry Cavill Characters [12]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Marriage, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Romance, Secret Kissing in Corners, Use of the Rather Uncomfortable Word Maidenhead, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: You never thought you’d marry a man like Charles Brandon, but he has other plans.
Relationships: Charles Brandon/Reader
Series: Henry Cavill Characters [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925797
Kudos: 46





	1. A Different Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles proposes to you at a dance.

He catches your eye and you blush. Charles Brandon, the newly created Duke of Suffolk. The most handsome man in Henry VIII’s court. Despite the fact that he wasn’t born a noble, he’s risen high, and plenty of women who were born noble would have been proud to call him husband.

You bite your lip nervously as he unexpectedly makes his way over to you, bowing low, then smiling up at you. “Good evening, my lady,” he greets you.

“Good evening, sir,” you reply, touching your neck self-consciously.

It isn’t that you aren’t flattered by his attention. But your father sent you to court to make a respectable match, and you can’t do that if Charles Brandon takes your maidenhead.

If the rumors are true, his sexual conquests are many. You aren’t silly enough to expect your husband to remain faithful to you in body. Even your own father had well-known extramarital connections.

But you do expect to be treated with dignity, and you aren’t sure Charles Brandon is capable of that.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course, sir.”

You’re not stupid. Refusing him would be unseemly.

He leads you to the floor and you begin to dance, whirling among the tall candles set about the room. “You are newly arrived at court, are you not?” he wonders.

“Yes, sir. My father sent me recently.”

“To find a husband, no doubt?”

You nod. Every woman at court is looking for a husband. It’s rather crass to say it so bluntly, but it’s not wrong.

“And is there anyone you have your eye on? Perhaps I could tell you more about the object of your affection.”

He pulls you close to his chest next and stares down at you. He’s holding his breath, and his blue eyes seem troubled.

Really, you should refuse to answer the question. It’s none of his business, after all.

But something about those eyes makes you submit.

“There is no one, I’m afraid,” you confess. “My father will have to remain disappointed for now.”

His eyes brighten and he breathes again, cupping your elbows in his hands and pausing on the edge of the dance floor. “Perhaps you would consider me, my lady.”

You look up at him, stunned. “You?”

“Come with me.”

He offers you his arm and you take it, letting him steer you onto a nearby balcony.

He stands for a moment and looks at the stars, then turns to you. “Do you not find me a suitable match, my lady?”

You blink at him and shake your head. “It’s not that at all, sir. Socially, you are a significant match. And I’m sure that my father would prefer me to think of nothing else, but a woman must have other considerations. Our lot in life is so simple, and yet the wrong man can ruin it in an instant.”

“Then tell me what you require,” he requests. “Please.”

You consider for a moment. Perhaps the rumors about him are not quite true. Few men would ask you that.

“I require a man who loves me,” you finally reveal. “Who respects me, and will be good to me and our family. Who cares for me not just out of obligation, but because he genuinely wants to. And a man who is generally good. Who is ambitious, but not to a fault. Who believes in doing good in the world simply because it is the right thing.”

Your cheeks are hot as he takes in everything you said and nods.

“I notice you did not ask for faithfulness, my lady.”

You steel yourself and look him in the eye. “I am not foolish enough to expect faithfulness,” you admit. “I only ask for emotional fidelity, and that my husband not flaunt his affairs too widely.”

He tilts his head curiously. “You are a shrewd woman,” he murmurs. “And what if I promised you all of those things as well as faithfulness?”

“You?” you echo yourself.

He laughs, and you think he’s blushing, though it’s hard to tell in the low light.

“You must understand, my lady, that the women I’ve been with were only dalliances, and they knew it. I would never lie to a woman and tell her I loved her or wanted to marry her just so she would submit to me. They were simply… distractions, because while I have considered marriage for some time now, my status was not high enough for the woman I desired. You.”

You rest a hand on your exposed cleavage as if you’re pointing to yourself. “Me?”

He nods. “Yes, you. My recent elevation to the title of duke finally makes me worthy of you.”

“Rank is not what makes a person worthy, Charles,” you reply without thinking.

He sighs happily, stepping closer to you, pressing you gently into the shadows and touching his forehead to yours. “You said my name.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you whisper. “I should have addressed you properly.”

“I promise not to tell,” he teases, making you smile.

“Why me, Charles?” you can’t help wondering.

“When I first saw you, I knew that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. But even more than that, you are the kindest. I’ve seen you with the children here at court, the women worried for or angry with their husbands, and the sick.”

You try to be charitable when you can, either with things or feelings. Everyone has problems and needs either help or someone to talk to.

“And now I know that you are a woman of integrity. You weren’t afraid to tell me what you wanted. You stood up for yourself. You’re clearly understanding and feel deeply. And I wager you are more intelligent than anyone here would give you credit for.”

You stare into his eyes as he finishes. “And you understand how to be proper, in spite of all of that. I am close to the most important people in the kingdom, and I need someone who can handle that gracefully.”

“I owe you an apology, Charles,” you tell him. “I thought you only wanted the conquest of my maidenhead.”

“Make no mistake, my lady,” he replies, his voice low, “I do want to lay claim to your maidenhead. But only if you agree to be my wife, and even then, only after we are wed.”

He is a far better man than you’d ever hoped to find. “I would love to be your wife, Charles. Yes.”

“I will ask your father’s permission tomorrow, then,” he assures you. “May I kiss you?”

You nod breathlessly, gasping as he cups your face in his hands and leans in to touch his lips to yours.

You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him and returning it as best as you can, panting softly.

It’s even more wonderful than you could ever have imagined, and you don’t want it to end, but it must. If you were caught before your father has approved your marriage, it would be disastrous for your reputation.

Not his, but such was a woman’s lot in life.

He pulls back reluctantly. “We should continue dancing,” he murmurs, “but I promise you, my lady, that we will kiss more before long.”

You nod and let him escort you back to the dance floor, thankful that no one seems to have noticed what you were doing in the shadows.


	2. North Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Charles begin your married life together.

“And you wish to marry the Duke of Suffolk, my dear?” your father asks.

“Yes, Father,” you answer.

You’re well aware that the question is a formality. Strictly speaking, you must consent to the marriage, but if you didn’t want to, your father would insist. Charles is a far greater match than he ever expected you to make, and he won’t give up the alliance of your families for anything.

Charles smiles at you as you accept him, and your cheeks flush at the memory of the kiss you secretly shared the night before.

You couldn’t sleep because you were thinking about it. You can’t wait to kiss him again.

“Then the wedding should take place as soon as possible,” your father decides eagerly.

You’re not surprised. Charles has a notorious reputation, and you’re sure your father is thinking that he might change his mind about the woman he wants before long.

But once he’s married, there’s no getting out of it. You’ll be linked forever, as long as you consummate the union. And especially when you have children.

After you’ve given Charles several sons, your father won’t care if your husband sleeps with every woman in England. Your future, and his, will be assured.

But Charles promised you faithfulness, and you firmly believe he will deliver on that promise.

“I agree,” Charles tells your father. “I am leaving for Portugal soon to deliver the king’s sister to her new husband.”

He turns to you. “I am hoping we can wed before then so that you may accompany me on the voyage as my wife.”

Your eyes widen with excitement. “I’ve never been on a sea voyage,” you confess.

“They can be quite exhilarating, my lady,” he assures you. “And you would, of course, get to see Portugal, which I’ve heard is beautiful.”

He addresses your father again. “I have told the king of my intention to wed and he wishes the ceremony to take place at the palace. I will make all of the arrangements, and we will have a lovely suite in which to make our marriage bed.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of your marriage bed. Charles barely holds back a smirk when he sees your hands tighten on your skirt.

“You must allow me to pay some of the expenses,” your father insists diplomatically.

Once your position is secure, you’re sure your father will be far less generous, but for now, he won’t risk it.

“Nonsense,” Charles refused. “I will pay for everything.” He smiles at your father. “Save your money, sir, to lavish gifts upon your grandsons, because I plan to give you many.”

They both laugh amiably. Then Charles takes your hand, raises it to his lips, and kisses your knuckles.

“I am very much looking forward to wedding you, my lady,” he says sincerely.

“I am very much looking forward to it myself,” you return the sentiment.

“Until that day, then.”

He straightens, looks at you longingly, then leaves.

****

The wedding is a small affair, but an envied one, since the king himself is in attendance.

After the priest pronounces you married, there’s a feast that’s much more widely attended.

You shake your head at the first few dishes presented to you, then Charles catches your fingers in his, bringing them to his mouth to kiss.

“You must eat, darling,” he encourages you. “You’ll need your strength.”

You blush in response and he chuckles. “I quite like it when you blush,” he confesses. “It’s very lovely.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

You beam at him as he smiles. Now you’re allowed to call him by his first name.

When the next dish is presented to you, you nod and the man serves you some. You cut into the Cornish hen and take a bite, looking pointedly at your new husband.

He nods approvingly. You eat a few more dishes throughout the night, but not too many. You don’t want to feel too full later.

When the time comes, several ladies escort you to your bedchamber. Charles follows shortly after, being encouraged by a crowd of his friends, including the king.

“Bed her well, Charles!” he calls after shoving him through the door.

It shuts behind him and suddenly, you’re alone.

You swallow nervously, just staring at him for a moment.

Then you both move, crashing into each other, your lips meeting as your hands begin to pull at each other’s clothes.

Charles’ fingers make quick work of the ties of your dress and he sighs as he touches your bare skin. “I have been consumed by thoughts of you since the night we danced, my lady,” he gasps.

“As have I, Charles,” you assure him, undoing his doublet and pushing it back over his broad shoulders.

He lets it fall to the floor before he grabs your hands in his and looks at you seriously, his blue eyes full of love and concern.

“Before we continue,” he begins, “do you know what is about to happen? Has anyone… prepared you?”

You nod. “My mother knew she was going to die quite a while before it happened. She told me everything she felt I needed to know then. Though I gather that the experience is quite different from the description.”

“Better, I hope,” he whispers, then moves his hands and lifts you, setting you gently on the edge of the bed.

He makes quick work of the rest of your clothes, dropping tender kisses on your flushed skin as he exposes it. Then he stands back up, removing his shirt. You watch as he undresses, appreciating his beautiful body, biting his lower lip as he completely reveals himself to you.

You remember every word of what your mother told you, but despite her assurances, you’re not entirely sure he’s going to fit inside you.

He grins as he approaches you, crawling onto the bed, backing you up to the pillows before he presses one of your hands to his swollen length.

“I will do my best not to hurt you,” he says sincerely. “You are my wife, and I want you to feel pleasure when we make our children.”

A fresh wave of heat moves over you at the thought. You want to give him children, especially sons.

“I also,” he purrs, moving your hand above your head, “want you to feel pleasure every other time as well.”

Then he’s between your legs, moaning as he feels how wet you are. He hovers, lowering his head to your breasts, kissing them and catching your nipples between his teeth briefly, then dragging his mouth up your neck to claim your lips, thrusting forward and claiming your maidenhead at the same time.

You let out a loud cry, hanging onto him desperately as he starts to move. His curls fall into his face, and all of his muscles are tense with restraint. His thrusts are shallow as he stares down into your eyes, and you’re surprised to see that he looks scared.

“What’s wrong, Charles?” you ask softly.

“Am I hurting you?” he wonders.

You smile and shake your head. “You’re really not,” you assure him soothingly, lifting your legs and wrapping them loosely around his waist.

He asks several more times, specifically each time he goes deeper or moves faster. Each time, you give him the same answer. He only lets himself go after your back arches, your toes curl, and you start to quake around him.

You’ve never felt like this before, and all you want is more. He pushes deep inside you and shudders, panting heavily, finally opening his eyes again and gazing down at you reverently.

“That was wonderful, Charles,” you tell him.

“Good,” he breathes, giving you another kiss. “There’s so much more we can do, and I’m going to show it all to you, dear wife.”

You giggle, feeling safe and warm and loved in his embrace. “I think I’d like that, dear husband.”

****

And you do. While Charles must spend his days serving the king and readying for the journey to Portugal, he spends his nights in bed with you.

When your voyage to Portugal begins, he keeps you just as satisfied, even though your accommodations are not opulent. You’ve never been a particularly vain woman, and you find that having him more than makes up for any discomfort you must endure.

In Portugal, you dance with Charles at the princess’ wedding feast. Many of the men there stare at you longingly, but you only have eyes for your young, handsome husband.

You feel sorry for the princess, who had to marry a man much older than her. You know that you’re very lucky that your obligation could be fulfilled with a man like Charles.

By the time you leave the princess behind and arrive back in England, you know you’re with child.

You stand at the window of the room you spent your wedding night in, which the king has given to Charles to use freely while he’s at court, smiling contentedly as Charles slides his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I will do my best to give you a son,” you promise him.

He kisses your cheek. “Do your best to give us a healthy child, and a mother who will live long after they are born,” he corrects you. “You are my compass. My North Star. I would be lost without you.”

You lean back in his arms and nod. You love him, and he loves you, and you will do everything in your power to never abandon him.


End file.
